On a Roll
by chazzercized
Summary: Aster doesn't understand Zane's taste in food. Established proshipping.


It all started with a disparaging remark.

Aster walked into his kitchen, sipping from a bottle of black tea. At the table sat Zane, in the same seat he had been sitting in each morning for the past six months, eating his second slice of bread and reading the paper. After a couple seconds, Zane acknowledged Aster, without looking up.

"Stop staring at me. What is it?"

Sighing, Aster slid into the chair nearest Zane and glared down at the plate containing his breakfast. The smaller duelist furrowed his brow and took another sip of his tea.

"Why do you do that?" Aster asked with a disgusted look on his face as he watched Zane take another bite of bread.

The former Kaiser glanced over at him now, raising an eyebrow. Putting the paper down, he finished the last bite of bread before turning to completely face him. Once they made eye contact, Aster met Zane's neutral expression with impatience. After a moment, it was apparent that Zane wasn't going to respond without some elaboration. Aster gestured at the plate with one hand, as he set his empty tea bottle on the table.

"Every morning you eat plain bread, Zane. You don't even toast it, and it's not like we don't have butter," Aster explained, his tone just a tad irritated. Zane just rolled his eyes as he grabbed the empty tea bottle, getting up to dispose of it. Aster turned in his seat, glaring; he didn't like being ignored.

"I know what I eat. What's your point?" Zane said, disinterested. He leaned against the counter and folded his arms across his chest.

"It's not breakfast," Aster snapped, snatching the plate from the table as he got up. "You're supposed to eat something nourishing to get you through the day. We have eggs, you know. We have bacon, cheese, and even ham. And if you just happen to not know how to use a stove, it's not like I would be bothered to show you how to make an omelet."

Aster dropped the plate into the sink, and then backed up to stand in front of him, crossing his arms and leaning on the opposite counter. He scowled up at Zane, who still looked as neutral as he had at the table, though there was just a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"Since when did you become a mother hen?" Zane asked, smirking at the glare he received. "Thanks for the concern, but I'm going to stick with what I've been eating. I happen to like bread."

"_Obviously_. I really wouldn't be surprised if you started carrying some in your pockets during duels," Aster said, rolling his eyes. "Just in case you got hungry waiting for your turn."

He pushed himself away from the counter to busy himself, picking up the newspaper from the table. Zane was still smirking as he watched him, albeit genuinely confused by Aster's interest in what he ate.

"Unless you plan on making me breakfast every morning," Zane started, gaining himself another glare from Aster; "Mind your own eating habits. Why does it matter to you, anyway?"

"We have rice, too. It's the same, only better," Aster said, walking away toward the couch. He didn't mind being the one to ignore people. Zane glared and followed him.

"Aster," he snapped, watching him flop down on the couch and lay back casually. Aster glanced at him and sighed heavily.

"It's gross, dude. Eating bread plain is just weird, especially every morning. And with all the good food I buy, it doesn't make sense."

Zane, being done with this conversation, went to the door. He slipped into his coat, mildly annoyed. Mostly it was because he didn't like being told to do anything, but it was also that he was a little offended. It's not like he spent time complaining about the ridiculous amount of meat stored downstairs. Deciding not to care, the former Kaiser headed outside; he had duels to attend, and he didn't have time for Aster's nonsense.

Aster sat up on the sofa; he also had places to be. As he put his shoes on, he began to wish he hadn't said anything. After all, it's not like he had to eat bread plain, and he certainly wouldn't appreciate someone implying that he was wrong for liking something. Oh well, Zane would hardly be offended, and Aster decided to not mention it again.

When Zane got back late that night, the lights were all off. He assumed that either Aster wasn't back yet or that he had simply gone to bed. He closed the door and slipped out of his shoes before heading to the kitchen, a grocery bag in his hand. Placing it on the floor, he began removing several loaves of bread and stacking them into the pantry.

The next morning Aster was the first out of bed, and the first one into the pantry. It took him a moment to see past the sleepiness fogging his vision and notice the ridiculous amount of bread before him. He pulled a loaf out and stared at it in confusion. His mouth opened and closed a couple times as he searched for something to say. After a moment he realized it wouldn't mean much to say anything while standing alone, so he stomped back to the bedroom where a sleeping Zane lay.

"Real mature," he said loudly, as he chucked the bread, nailing Zane in the back of head.

Zane rolled over and sat up, glaring at Aster. He didn't like the rude awakening, and was about to respond when he noticed the loaf of bread beside him. He smirked and picked it up, opening it and taking out the end piece. He took a bite.

"I could say the same about you."

Aster darted toward the bed and snatched the bread from Zane's hand.

"Don't eat on the bed! What's wrong with you? You're going to get crumbs everywhere," he complained, removing the whole loaf from his clutches as well. Zane just smirked in response, and Aster left the room grumbling.

After organizing the bread on the counter, Aster was able to access real food and start eating breakfast. Just a couple minutes after he'd sat down and starting eating, Zane had joined him and they sat in silence. The tension emitted solely from Aster, as Zane was comfortable in his petty victory.

The day had gone by quickly, with Zane busy dealing with dueling and building up a slightly less terrifying image than the whole Hell Kaiser thing, and so it was late in the evening when he was heading back home. Most of the way, he walked, enjoying the open space. It was all relatively normal until a small gathering of people caught his eye.

Mostly, the crowd consisted of people who looked as if they hadn't had much of a home in years. There was chattering and people moving in and out and around from something Zane couldn't quite see. Curiosity got the better of him and he strode over to the group of people. Frowning, he eased his way through, trying to keep from making physical contact the best he could.

It was easy to make the people scatter, considering his intimidating demeanor. At the center of the group was a large box with a piece of paper taped to the front. It read 'free sandwiches' in a familiar scribbled handwriting. Inside was a good dozen loaves of bread. Zane growled and turned on his heel, startling a few of the people close by and headed again toward home annoyed.

Aster was sitting on the sofa, his legs propped up as he pretended to watch television. When he heard the front door open, his eyes lit up with amusement. He had only gotten home fifteen minutes prior and had been waiting patiently for Zane to come back. He watched the hall, waiting for Zane to come in make some sort of comment, then give up so that Aster could revel in his petty victory and not have to worry about this bread nonsense any longer. Zane never went into the living room, however, and while disappointed, Aster really wasn't surprised.

Rolling his eyes, he turned and laid down on the couch, getting a little more comfortable. It was quiet and Aster had assumed Zane had gone to bed, something he planned on doing pretty soon himself. After ten minutes or so, Aster sat up and stretched his arms, before turning off the television. When he had, the sound of running water caught his attention. He looked down the hall in confusion; the sink was on in the kitchen. Aster got up and headed in that direction, wondering why Zane would be in the dark, running water.

Turning on the light, Aster stood in the doorway to the kitchen and stared at Zane, who was standing in front of the sink. Raising an eyebrow, Aster walked in the kitchen, curious about why Zane was making it a point to ignore him. When he got close enough to the sink, the first thing he noticed was the smirk on Zane's face, and the second was at least twenty empty bottles scattered across the counter. Aster's face scrunched up in anger and he folded his arms in an attempt to not hit Zane.

"What the hell?" he growled, gaining no response from Zane, who casually began to gather up the bottles and toss them into the recycling bin. "_Zane_, was that _all_ of my tea?"

"Was that all of my bread?"

Zane smirked at the disgruntled look on Aster's face as his question had been answered. Instead of retorting, Aster turned on his heel and marched out of the room. Zane heard the door to the bedroom slam shut. He finished discarding the bottles, then turned to the grocery bags on the kitchen floor behind him. Zane put the two loaves of bread he had bought away, and when he was done, he turned off the light and went to bed.

The next day they were both home and things were quiet; Zane was too busy gloating to converse and Aster was seething. As the evening came around, Aster had restocked his tea supply and still hadn't said a word to Zane; he just slammed doors and walked loudly to convey his point. That changed after it got late, and Aster had conceded to Zane's efforts.

A couple days passed, and Zane was preparing to leave for an exhibition duel in Domino City. He was up early the day of and gone before Aster had gotten out of bed. It wouldn't be until the following day that Zane would return.

During Zane's absence, Aster spent the early morning relaxing, something he never really got the chance to do. He had briefly considered revenge, but decided if he thought to hard about the whole argument any longer, he might punch Zane in the face; which he didn't want to do, even though it sounded appealing ninety percent of the time. When the doorbell rang, however, Aster was pretty sure he could kill his friend.

"What the _fuck_ is this?" Aster snapped, the moment Zane had answered his cell-phone. He was looking down at three crates filled with bread, and he could have sworn he heard Zane smirking.

"I can't see it, Aster," Zane responded casually.

"Shut up. Why is our living room filled with crates of bread?"

"Right. I made that order yesterday, before I won. Not even you could have gotten rid of that much bread," Zane explained.

Aster had accepted defeat, because the whole ordeal had gotten ridiculous and there was a lot of good tea wasted. However, he didn't like being told he had lost anything, when he had simply given up for the sake of not getting violent over it. Inhaling and ignoring the comment, he hung up the phone without so much as a response. Aster would not have a living room full of bread, but more importantly, he would not be mocked.

Without wasting a moment after he hung up, Aster basically smashed at the number pad on his phone, calling to make order for several pounds of cheese to be delivered immediately. It took the store all morning plus some of the afternoon to finish the deliveries, and all the while, Aster stood at the stove looking extremely pleased with himself.

When Zane returned home, the overwhelming smell of salt and burnt cheese hit him violently as he walked through the door. Putting his things down in the hall, Zane followed the smell right into the most obvious place – the kitchen. When he had antagonized Aster on the phone, he had been expecting some retaliation. The hundreds of grilled cheeses stacked throughout the room were not what he had been expecting.

Some sandwiches were burnt and some were only half done. There were quite a few decent ones, though, stacked in the back, and obviously the first made. Zane moved through the kitchen and looked into the dining room, where he found Aster sitting at the table in the chair he typically sat in, eating one of the many grilled cheeses. Zane glared from the doorway until Aster pretended to just notice him.

"Hi," Aster said, giving him a small smile before he turned back to his plate. He looked tired and greasy and Zane wasn't sure if he was impressed or disturbed.

"Was that all the bread?" he asked, even though he was sure he already knew the answer.

"Well, I had to do something with it," Aster responded, using the same casual tone he'd been the recipient of the day before. "There's lunch in the kitchen. I'm sure you noticed."

Zane could see the smirk forming, and he glared again, before turning back into the kitchen to start cleaning up the mess.

"How many did you make?" he asked, after he picked up only a small chunk of what was there.

"Four-hundred and thirty two," he responded, as he chewed the last bite of his sandwich. "I ate a couple, though."

Aster got up and stretched out his arms. He was exhausted and feeling accomplished; he figured it was about time to go to bed, after being up all night winning. As he headed for the bedroom, Zane came out of the kitchen and tossed one of the burnt sandwiches at Aster's back.

"Clean up your mess," he snapped, knowing exactly what Aster was intending to do, and Zane would not have it.

"Nah, cleaning up is your penalty for losing the game. Have fun," Aster said, his tone taunting. He turned the corner and a moment later the door to the bedroom shut, leaving Zane seething in the dining room.

He was impressed with the effort Aster put into his move, and he had intended on letting it end there, but Zane wasn't going to sit back and accept that attitude. As far as he was concerned, Aster was mistaken if he thought that Zane couldn't do far better than a kitchen full of grilled cheese and weak arrogant remarks.

The next week moved by slowly. Other than dueling and work and the usual time the two spent together in between, not much happened. The war seemed to be over, and Aster only gloated a couple hours after he woke up to a clean kitchen and irritable Zane. Even his sour mood passed rather quickly, and things were just quiet, just as they usually were.

However, just as the week came to a close, things were going to get a little less quiet. It was about one in the morning and they were both in bed. Aster was sleeping soundly, which was quite rare and very convenient for Zane, who was still awake. Quietly, he got up and exited the room, going straight for the freezer that held all of Aster's favorite food.

The next morning, Aster woke up to an open door and a delicious smell. Immediately his face fell, and he hurried out into the hall. In the living room sat Zane with the television on. His feet were propped up on the coffee table and he was eating a sandwich. All around the room were plates stacked with neatly made sandwiches, each with lettuce, tomato, and his expensive, fine meat. It was cut up and being used as lunchmeat.

"This is not how you eat- Why would you- Are you insane?" Aster snapped, as he twisted and fidgeted in place. He had no way to fix what had happened, and that upset him more than anything.

"I took your suggestion," Zane said, setting his sandwich down on the plate in his lap. Aster glared as he continued. "I thought I'd try eating the good food you buy. You were right. It is pretty delicious."

Aster could feel his anger boiling up, and he wasn't sure if he was going to punch Zane, or go burn his entire deck. Both were horrible plans, but Aster was out of ways to get revenge with food, because Zane really didn't care about any of this. When Zane held out a sandwich for him to take, Aster sighed. He didn't look smug this time, just amused. He'd won his stupid game and he knew it, so he offered up the sandwich as a peace treaty.

Snatching the sandwich, Aster sat down next to Zane and put his legs on the table as well. He frowned and took a bite. It was good, even if it was an abomination.

"You're going to eat all of these with me," Aster said in between bites.

"Okay."


End file.
